The Newsies in A Christmas Carol
by Seraph2
Summary: The newsies attend a modern-day high school and are taking part in a production of "A Christmas Carol". *FINISHED*
1. Cast List

Carleton Community School Winter Play:  
"A Christmas Carol"  
Directed by Ms. M. Larkson, New Head of the CCS Drama Dept.  
Assisted by Mrs. P. Holmes, CCS High School English Teacher  
  
CAST LIST  
Narrator.....................James Francis "Jack" Sullivan-Kelly  
Ebenezer Scrooge..........Marcus "Specs" David  
Bob Cratchit.................David Jacobs  
Fred...........................Aaron "Mush" Lohr  
Jacob Marley.................Dave "Pie Eater" Sidoni  
Ghost of Christmas Past...Ivan "Dutchy" Dudynsky  
Young Ebenezer............Anthony "Racetrack" Higgins  
Fan............................Caitlin "Springs" Hawthorne  
Young Scrooge..............Mike "Skittery" Goorjian  
Dick Wilkins.................Arvie "Boots" Lowe, Jr.  
Fezziwig......................Joe "Jake" Conrad  
Mrs. Fezziwig...............Ariana Montoya  
Little Fezziwigs.............Tessie Andrews  
Taylor Montoya  
Cindy Bartholemew  
Belle...........................Anna "Ace" Jacobs  
Ghost of Christmas Present...Dominic "Bumlets" Lucero  
Mrs. Cratchit..................Rachel "Seraph" Conlon  
Tiny Tim......................Marty "Clumsy Crutchy" Morris  
Peter...........................Dominic "Itey" Maldonado  
Belinda........................Cerise LaGois  
Martha........................Jade Gessler  
Mrs. Fred.....................Felicia Darte  
Mrs. Fred's Sister............Leticia Darte  
Topper........................Trey "Blink" Parker  
Ghost of Christmas Yet   
To Come.............. Rob "Snoddy" Feeney  
Fat Man......................Dee "Snitch" Caspary  
Man With a Handkerchief...Matt "Snipeshooter" Fields  
Thin Man.....................Kevin "Swifty" Stea  
Old Joe........................Gabe "Spot" Conlon  
Mrs. Dilber...................Bethany "The Beast" Smythe  
Charwoman..................Bliss McNamorn  
Undertaker....................Don "Fish" Hallman  
Portly Gentlemen...........Mitchel "Mikko" Saunders  
Tye "Curls" Gordon  
Christmas Carolers............CCS Christmas Choir  
Boy..............................Lucas "Less" Jacobs  
  
  
The cast list for the winter play was posted during lunch on a Monday at the beginning of October. Since the school lunch was macaroni and cheese (or, as my brother Spot puts it, "rubber cylinders in a thin coating of yellow slime"), most students skipped lunch and checked out the cast list instead.  
"Yay! I'm a ghost!" I heard someone exclaim. It could only be my best friend-Dominic, also known as Bumlets. Don't ask me where he got the nickname; he already had it when he moved to Carleton Community two years ago, when we were in eighth grade.  
"Really?" I shouted back. "Which one?"  
"Uh...Christmas present! And you have a part, too. And so does Aaron, and so does your brother!"  
"Now, that's a surprise," I murmured to myself. Every year my brother's been in high school there's been a female drama teacher. And every year my brother, the famous Spot Conlon, has had a part in the winter play (and the fall variety show and the spring musical). It may not be a big part, but it's always a part, at least. On the other hand, I'm the one in the family who has the real talent, which is why I always have a part also. By the way, my name is Rachel "Seraph" Conlon, and I will be playing Mrs. Cratchit.  
"Seraph?" my other best friend, Aaron, or Mush, asked. "Who's Fred?" I rolled my eyes-trust Aaron to audition for a play he's never read before.  
"Scrooge's nephew," I explained. "It's a pretty big part, actually."  
"Great," Mush said with a big smile. "But we do have one problem."   
"Which would be...?"  
"The director is new."  
"And?"  
"And she gave The Beast and the Darte twins roles."   
"Great," I said, "now Felicia will be falling off the stage, Leticia will forget all her lines, and Bethany the Beast will manage to scare away all the rest of the audience!"  
"Yeah, I saw that they had parts, too," Bumlets said, returning to Mush and I, "but at least I'm a ghost!" Bumlets has a thing for ghosts. He keeps a list of people he's going to haunt after he dies.  
"Hey, Seraph, looks like you're going to be my wife for this thing," David Jacobs said, walking up to me. He's one of the smartest kids in school-we're two of the five sophomores that are in Algebra Two.  
"What's that?" Spot asked. "My sister's marrying Davey Jacobs? Where did I go wrong?" He pretended to moan and collapse in despair.   
"Spot, we're still going out tonight, right?" Cerise LeGois asked. She's a senior (a year older than Spot) and the guys in our school have been drooling over her for years.  
"Of course, honey," Spot said, regaining his composure and giving her a kiss on the cheek, which quickly moved to her lips and then to making out.  
"Honey darling, are we going out tonight also?" Bumlets asked me in a high voice, doing a great impression of Cerise.  
"Of course sweetie," I replied. Spot stopped kissing Cerise long enough to glare at us.  
"Immature sophomores," he muttered.  
"Oh yeah, Spot, mom told me to ask you if you want your sheets washed. She said it looks like you wet the bed again last night," I teased, grinning. Spot growled, let go of Cerise, and started chasing me around the cafeteria. Suddenly, I stopped and Spot crashed into me, falling flat on his face. Luckily, the intercom started to crackle and everyone turned his or her attention to the forthcoming announcement,  
"Due to the fact that Mrs. Holmes has just gone into labor, she will not be assisting Ms. Larkson with the winter play. She will be replaced by her long-term sub, Mr. Brian Denton." 


	2. Introductions

Disclaimer: All of the newsies, plus Medda Larkson and Brian Denton, belong to Disney. Charles Dickens wrote "A Christmas Carol", and I'm using the dramatization by Michael Paller. I own Springs, Ariana, Tessie, Taylor, Cindy, Ace, Seraph, Cerise, Jade, the Darte twins, Bethany, Bliss, Fish, Mikko, and Curls.  
  
Shout-Outs:  
  
Anon: Young Ebenezer is Scrooge as a young boy at school, Young Scrooge is the young man who falls in love with Belle. Ebenezer Scrooge is the old man who is visit by the three ghosts.  
  
Stretch: I'm glad that Specs gets a big part, too! Here's another chapter for you.  
"Remind me again why I'm at school at 6:30 in the morning," Mush requested drowsily, resting his head on my shoulder. I pushed it off, stood up, and we walked toward the front of the auditorium.  
"Because we're having play rehearsal before school so that the football and volleyball teams can all make it to practice this afternoon," I replied.  
"We did this other years, though, and we never had to be here till 7:00," Bumlets pointed out, joining the conversation.  
"Apparently Ms. Larkson likes to get an early start," I said. "Besides, it's partly your fault. You're one of the people on the football team!"  
"Everybody! Gather in a circle on the stage, please!" Ms. Larkson called. She was wearing a lacy pink skirt and her bright red hair was curled and styled in an elaborate messy bun.   
"Uh, nice dress, Ms. Larkson!" Jade Gessler called. She's a senior and best friends with Cerise.  
"Why, thank you darling!" Ms. Larkson exclaimed. "I always like to dress up to match whatever drama I'm working on. And you may all call me Medda. I want us to be one big, happy, Christmas Carol-y family!"  
"Really," Mush muttered to himself, a look of disbelief on his face.  
"Now," Medda began, "I'd like to introduce my assistant, Mr. Brian Denton." A young man with greasy brown hair, khakis, and a red-checked bow tie climbed up to the stage.  
"He's kind of cute!" Felicia Darte exclaimed to her twin sister, Leticia.  
"How can they think that?" I whispered to Bliss McNamorn, a sophomore sitting near me. "He's wearing a bow tie!"  
"Now, now, students, you can talk later," Medda interrupted. "It is time to practice. But first, I'd like to get to know all of you. So if you'd please go around the circle and say your name, your character in 'A Christmas Carol,' and what grade you're in." She pointed to Jack Sullivan-Kelly. "We'll start with you."  
"Uh, my name's Jack," Jack began with a British accent. "My parents divorced, so I just moved to the states from England this year. I'm a junior, and I'm the narrator."  
"Well, it's nice to have someone else who's new," Medda said with a welcoming smile. "Next."  
"Uh, my name's Specs, 'cause of my glasses, I'm a senior, and I'm Scrooge."  
"I'm David Jacobs," Dave began.  
"Nah, he's the walkin' mouth!" Spot shouted, and then flashed his trademark grin.  
"And who would you be?" Medda asked, trying unsuccessfully not to smile.   
"I'd be Spot Conlon, president of the junior class, and Old Joe in this play."  
"Well, nice to meet you, Mr. Conlon, now if we could please get back to David," Medda said.  
"Like I was saying," David began again, glaring at my brother, "I'm David Jacobs, I'm a sophomore, and I play Bob Cratchit."  
"Hey, everybody, I'm Mush, I'm another sophomore, and I'm Fred, whoever he is."  
"He's Scrooge's nephew," I reminded Mush.  
"Thank you, darling, and what's your name?" Medda asked me.  
"I'm Seraph Conlon, and I'm a sophomore like Mush. I play Mrs. Cratchit."  
"Do you happen to be related to Spot?" Medda asked, saying the name as if he was a god. Sheesh, you'd think a grown woman would know enough not to fall for his grins.  
"Yes, I'm his sister," I admitted grudgingly.  
"That must be wonderful!" Medda said, giving Spot another huge smile. "Now, who's next?"  
"I...I guess I am," Pie Eater said quietly. "I'm Pie Eater Sidoni, I'm a senior, and I play Jacob Marley."  
"Excuse me dear, I didn't quite catch your name," Medda said, cupping one hand around her ear. "Speak up! Don't be shy!"  
"His name's Pie Eater, and he's my boyfriend," Jade announced. "I'm Jade Gessler, I'm also a senior, and I play Martha Cratchit."  
"Thank you Jade, darling. Now who's next?"  
"That'd be me," a blond-haired boy said. "My name's Dutchy, 'cause I look Dutch, even though I'm really Ukrainian. I'm a junior and I play the Ghost of Christmas Past."  
"Ukrainian...I believe my grandmother was part Ukrainian," Medda said.  
"Are you sure it wasn't part Transylvanian?" Bumlets whispered to me.  
"Well, it could have been Transylvanian, I'm not sure," Medda replied, overhearing Bumlet's comment. "And you're the Ghost of Christmas Present, correct?"  
"That's me," Bumlets confirmed. "My name's Bumlets Lucero and I'm in tenth grade."  
"And who's our last ghost?" Medda wondered. "That's you isn't it?" She pointed to Snoddy.  
Snoddy wiped his nose on his sleeve and nodded. "Yeah. My name's Snoddy, because of my allergies. I'm a senior, and I'll be right back after I-achoo! -find some Kleenex." Snoddy ran off stage, and Medda turned toward Skittery.  
"And who are you, darling?"  
Skittery made a face at being referred to as a "darling". "Uh, I'm Skittery. I'm a freshman, and I play Young Scrooge."  
"Wonderful. And Young Ebenezer and his sister Fan are played by elementary students, correct?"  
"Actually, I'm young Ebenezer," a short Italian kid said. "And I'm a junior. The name's Racetrack. And Springs Hawthorne is Fan. She's a freshman."  
"You're a junior?" Medda asked, amazed. "I never would have guessed...you're such a cute little boy! Now, who's next?"  
"I am. I'm a freshman, my name's Boots, and I play Dick Wilkins."  
"Wonderful! Next."  
"My name's Jake Conrad, I play Fuzzy-wug, and..."  
"Wait a minute darling," Medda interrupted (again!), "but I have your name down as Joe Conrad."  
"It is. Jake's a nickname. Anyway, I play Fuzzy-wug..."  
"It's Fezziwig!" I exclaimed. "F-E-Z-Z-I-W-I-G. Get it straight!"  
"All right!" Jake shouted. "I play FEZZIWIG! And I'm a senior."  
Medda looked a little shocked at my outburst. "Yes, Fezziwig, of course," she murmured to herself. "All right then, who plays Mrs. Fezziwig?"  
"I do," Ariana Montoya said with a heavy Spanish accent. "My name's Ana Montoya and I am in twelfth grade. I am from Spain, but I am staying with my cousins here in Carleton this year."  
"Another new student!" Medda exclaimed. "And from Spain. How romantic! Now, where's Belle Fezziwig?"  
"Right here," a girl said, running into the auditorium. "Sorry I'm late, they were taking pictures of the volleyball team this morning, since we've had a winning season so far and all that. And my name's Anna, also."  
"But we all call her Ace," I finished for her. "And she's a sophomore."  
"Thank you darling, and congratulations on your season, Anna," Medda said. "On to the Cratchit family. We already have Bob and Mrs. Cratchit, but we need...Peter."  
"Here," Itey said. "I'm Itey Maldonado, and I'm a freshman."  
"Okay and Jade is Martha so who's Belinda?"  
"I am," Cerise said. "My name's Cerise, I'm a senior, and I'm also Spot's girlfriend."  
Medda beamed. "And I bet you look absolutely exquisite together! And who's Tiny Tim?"  
"Oh, I am. My name's Crutchy, and I'm a sophomore."  
"Wonderful, and I see you brought the crutch along with you already," Medda said.  
"Actually, he brought it because he sprained his ankle on the first day of football practice, and then again when he was walking to the cafeteria yesterday," a blond-haired boy wearing an eye patch said. "And my name's Kid Blink, and I wear an eye patch because I was a pirate in Peter Pan last year and I stole it from the prop department. I'm Topper this year, and I'm a junior."  
"Thank you, Mr....er...Blink," Medda said. "And I believe we have two identical twins, do we not?"  
"Yes," Felicia said loudly. "I'm Felicia, she's Leticia, I'm Mrs. Fred, she's Mrs. Fred's sister, and we're both sophomores."  
"Wait," Mush whispered to me. "If she's Mrs. Fred, does that mean I'm married to her?"  
"Yes." Mush pretended to vomit.  
"Are you all right?" Medda wondered.   
Mush blushed slightly. "Sure, fine, go on."  
"All right, dear, if you're sure," Medda agreed. "Now, for our three men. I believe you're all freshmen, correct? Now, our fat man is..."  
"Me. Snitch," Snitch volunteered.  
"All right, and the man with a handkerchief is..."  
"Me. Snipeshooter."  
"And the thin man..."  
"That'd be me, Swifty."  
"Yes. Swifts, Snipey, and Snitchshooter. That shouldn't be too hard to remember."  
"Yes, except for the fact that it's SNITCH, SNIPESHOOTER, and SWIFTY," I corrected, exasperated.  
"Well, thank you darling, although you don't have to shout," Medda said. "What's your name again? Oh yes, you're Spot's little sister, aren't you?" I glowered. "Anyway...what about Mrs. Dilber and the Charwoman?" Medda asked.  
"I'm the Charwoman," Bliss said. "My name's Bliss McNamorn, and I'm a sophomore. Mrs. Dilber is Bethany Smythe, a junior. She's over there." Bliss pointed toward a girl sitting at the corner of the stage, holding a mirror in one hand. With the other, she was applying yet another coat of garish red lipstick to her already overdone face.  
"Lovely. And our Portly Gentlemen are?"  
"Me and Curls," Mikko Saunders volunteered. "We're both seniors."  
"Who act like second graders," I commented under my breath, and Bumlets nodded in agreement.  
"And, last but not least, the Undertaker," Medda said. She looked around at the sea of faces. "Where is the Undertaker?"  
"It's Fish, isn't it?" I asked.  
Medda flipped through a stack of papers laying near the front of the stage. "Don Hallman is what my list says."  
"That's Fish," I replied. "He's on swim team. They have practice in the mornings. He's a junior."  
"Oh, all right then," Medda said. "So we have everybody but Tessie, Taylor, Cindy, and Lucas. Since they're still in elementary, they'll just come to the weekend practices. Now, let's begin rehearsal..." 


	3. Rehearsal

Disclaimer: All of the newsies, plus Medda Larkson, Brian Denton, and Weasel, belong to Disney. Charles Dickens wrote "A Christmas Carol", and I'm using the dramatization by Michael Paller. I own Springs, Ariana, Tessie, Taylor, Cindy, Ace, Seraph, Cerise, Jade, the Darte twins, Bethany, Bliss, Fish, Mikko, and Curls.  
  
A big THANK YOU to Stretch and Hottie5Star for their reviews. Please continue!   
A note to everyone who is reading this and HASN'T reviewed: REVIEW!  
"Now, let's begin rehearsal," Medda said. "I'd like to start off by reading through the beginning of the first act. Would the Narrator, Scrooge, Cratchit, Fred, Jacob Marley, and the two portly gentlemen please come to the front of the stage?"  
"If you don't mind, Medda, I'll take the other ghosts to the back of the auditorium to work on their parts," Mr. Denton suggested.   
"Oh, that would be wonderful, Denty dearest," Medda replied. "The rest of you should go to the home ec. room to be measured for your costumes."  
I raised my hand. "Who's designing the costumes, Ms. Lark...I mean, Medda?"  
"Our home ec. teacher, of course," she said. "Mr. Wiesel."  
Mush gave me a look of pure horror. "Weasel's designing the costumes!" he exclaimed. "We're all going to be wearing striped shirts and suspenders!" I nodded in resignation.  
"Now, now, don't stand around chatting, darlings," Medda commanded. "Get to work!"  
Mush's POV:  
While Seraph walked to the home ec. room and Bumlets, Dutchy, Snoddy, and Mr. Denton moved to the back of the auditorium, I took a seat on the front of the stage.  
"Here are your scripts," Medda said, handing a thick booklet to Jack, Specs, Davey, Pie Eater, Mikko, Curls, and myself. "Now, open to page one and let's begin. Nice and loud, please, everyone."  
Jack cleared his throat. "Once upon a time---of all good days of the year, on Christmas Eve---old Scrooge sat busy in his counting house," he began in a very British accent.  
"One, two, three, four, five, six..." Specs droned.  
"Specsy, darling, what are you doing?" Medda asked curiously.  
"Well, it's a counting house, isn't it?" Specs said. "So I'm counting."  
"But, Specs, that's not in the script," Medda pointed out. "Continue, Jack."  
"A-hem! It was cold, bleak, biting weather. The city clocks had only just gone three, but it was quite dark already. Oh, but he was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, Scrooge!"  
I pulled a piece of gum out of my pocket, shrugged, and threw it at Davey.  
"Hey, what was that for?" he exclaimed.  
"I gave you a piece of gum!" I replied. "Besides, read your script, 'Fred tosses a small gift-a candy cane, or a piece of fruit, perhaps---to Cratchit.' I'm supposed to throw something at you!"  
I glanced toward Medda for approval, but she seemed a bit miffed. "We'll worry about the props later," she emphasized. "For now, just SAY your LINES, please darlings."  
"All right," I muttered, "you don't have to shout! A merry Christmas, uncle! God save you!"  
"Bah. Humbug," Specs said.   
We continued for a few pages until the first portly gentleman's line. Then, together, Mikko and Curls said, "Scrooge and Marley's, I believe? Have I the pleasure of addressing Mister Scrooge, or Mister Marley?"  
"Wait, wait, wait," Medda cried, her face now almost as red as her hair. "Only the FIRST portly gentleman is supposed to say that!"  
"But I AM first," Mikko shouted.   
"No way, I am," Curls contradicted.   
"Alphabetically, I am first," Mikko said. "First Mitchel, then Tye."  
"Not if you go by last name," Curls replied. "First Gordon, then Saunders!"  
"Boys, boys, please be quiet," Medda yelled. "Or we will never get through the beginning of the first act! Let's worry about this later and just skip to Jacob Marley's lines on the fifth page."  
"But then you skip all of my lines in the first act!" Dave exclaimed.  
"LIVE WITH IT!" Medda cried. Even the ghosts practicing in the back of the auditorium turned to stare. "Sorry," Medda apologized, smoothing her curls. If we have time, we'll come back to you, Davey, darling. Now, Scrooge, say your first line on page five."  
"How now? What do you want with me?" Specs recited.  
"Mmm," Pie Eater murmured, or at least I think that's what he said.  
"What was that Pie-y, darling? Speak up," Medda requested.  
"M-m-much," Pie Eater finally choked out.  
"Now, now, darling, nice and loud," Medda corrected. "Try it one more time."  
Now Pie Eater was the one getting annoyed. "Much!" he shouted. Once again, the ghosts turned around to stare. This was going to be a loooooong practice.  
Bumlet's POV:  
"Much!" Pie Eater shouted. Dutchy, Snoddy, Mr. Denton, and I turned around to stare. "Sorry," he said timidly, and we turned back to our scripts.  
"Like I was saying," Denton said, "you three have the most important parts in the script. Without the three ghosts, Scrooge would never change, the Cratchits would still be poor, and Tiny Tim would die."  
"Yeah, but without Scrooge we wouldn't even have a play," Dutchy pointed out.   
Denton frowned. "Yes, but since we DO have a Scrooge, you ARE the most important parts." I didn't really follow his logic, but oh well. "The first thing I'd like you to do," Denton continued. "Is to get in touch with your inner ghost. Think, 'If I really WERE a ghost, what would I be like? How would I look? Who would I talk to? How would I feel? What would I wear?"  
"Excuse me---achoo!---but I'm not sure if I have an inner ghost," Snoddy said.  
"Of course you do!" Denton exclaimed. "If you didn't have an inner ghost, you wouldn't have been cast for this part! Look inside yourself. Find your inner ghost!" I decided that we should probably try it before Denton got any more crazy ideas.  
'What would my inner ghost be like?' I wondered to myself. 'And since I'd be dead---would I even care what I wore?'  
"All right, everybody ready?" Denton asked. "Now, I'd like you to share some thoughts about the ghost in YOU. Dutchy, you first."  
"Well, uh, he's the Ghost of Christmas Past, so I suppose he knows a lot about history and all that. Maybe he wears some old fashioned clothes or something..."  
"No, no, no!" Denton shouted. "All wrong! I don't mean the ghost that you're playing, I mean the ghost that you ARE!"  
"Why don't you give us an example," I suggested. "What's your inner ghost like?"  
"My inner ghost," Denton mused. "My inner ghost is small, fragile, but strong. Its job is to punish all of those annoying people in the audience who talk during plays. I would be called the Whisper-Stopper...and I would wear an outfit made entirely of bow ties."  
"NOT a pretty picture," Ivan whispered to me, and I nodded.  
"Maybe we should just kill him now, so that he and his inner ghost can unite," Snoddy suggested.  
"You WANT to see Denton completely covered with bow ties?" I wondered.  
"Sorry, boys, what were you saying?" Denton asked, snapping out of his morbid dreamlike state.  
"Uh...just discussing our inner ghosts," I fibbed.  
"Oh wonderful," Denton said. "Now, I'd like you to think about ways to become your inner ghost. If you were to kill yourself, how would you go about it? Personally, I think I'd go for a hanging..."  
"This guy is seriously suicidal," Ivan whispered.  
Seraph's POV:  
Ace Jacobs (who is David's second cousin, by the way), Bliss McNamorn, and I stood in a group in the home ec. room, waiting for the Weasel to talk to us about our costumes.  
"What do you think of Medda?" Bliss asked.  
"Strange," I replied. "Mental. Insane."  
"And way too obsessed with pink!" Ace added.  
"Exactly. WHY did Mrs. Holmes have to have her baby NOW?" I wondered.  
"Stop talking, girls, I need to tell you about your costumes," Weasel's slimy voice interrupted. "Ace, you're Belle. You'll wear a gorgeous ball gown." Weasel held his hands out at his sides, as if holding a skirt out, and then bent his legs in a clumsy imitation of a curtsy. "Bliss, you're the Charwoman. That's a cleaning lady."  
"Good," Bliss whispered to me, "I always wondered what a charwoman was."  
"You'll wear a maid's uniform, and carry a feather duster," Weasel continued. He skipped around the home ec. room, using an imaginary feather duster to brush imaginary specs of dust off the sewing machines. "And Seraph, you're Mrs. Cratchit. You'll wear a skirt, blouse, and apron." Now he moved his arm around as if he were stirring something, then ran to one of the ovens in the room, opened it, and pretended to put something inside. "You do lots of cooking in the play," he explained. "There are tape measures on the table over there. Use them, write down your measurements, and give them to me. Then you can leave." With that, Weasel pranced over to give Racetrack and Springs a dramatic description of their costumes.  
"I can't decide who's worse," Ace declared. "The Weasel or Medda!" 


	4. Tofu Burgers, Fire Drills, and More

Disclaimer: All of the newsies, plus Medda Larkson, Brian Denton, and Weasel, belong to Disney. Charles Dickens wrote "A Christmas Carol", and I'm using the dramatization by Michael Paller. I own Springs, Ariana, Tessie, Taylor, Cindy, Ace, Seraph, Cerise, Jade, the Darte twins, Bethany, Bliss, Fish, Mikko, and Curls.  
THANKS to Stretch for all of her reviews---they keep me writing! To any other readers: follow Stretch's excellent example and REVIEW!  
Seraph's POV:  
If you thought our first rehearsal on Tuesday was bad, you should have been there for the rest of the week. Every morning we dealt with a different ghost. Medda's dresses got shorter and lacier (and uglier), and Denton ran around the stage shouting things like, "Let your inner ghost inspire you!" and "Remember the bow ties! Remember the Whisper-Stopper!" In short, it was complete and total chaos. But the funniest rehearsal was Thursday's...  
Bumlet's POV:  
On Thursday, we started a read-through of Act Two, which means I finally got to practice my lines.  
"All right, Jack, you start," Medda said.   
"We left Ebenezer Scrooge in bed, vainly trying to recall and mend his unpleasant past, and wondering what variety of spirits await him in the present and future. Now, being prepared for almost anything, he was by no means prepared for nothing." Jack paused. "The bell tolled one again. And no shape appeared. Five minutes." Another pause. "Ten minutes." Yet another pause. "A quarter of an hour went by." Pause---this was getting really boring. Just hurry up and get to my lines! "Yet nothing came."   
Finally, my turn. "Enter, Ebenezer Scrooge! Come in and know me better, man! I am the Ghost of Christmas Present. Look upon me. You have never seen the like of me before!"  
"No, no, no," Denton shouted. "All wrong!"  
Medda frowned. "But what was wrong with it, Denty dearest? I thought it was excellent---"  
"Well, it was excellent for a human," Denton conceded, "but it was all wrong for a ghost. There needs to be more suspense...more mystery...more drama...more pregnant pauses." If I hear anything more about pausing, I'm going to throw up.   
"True, true," Medda agreed. "You have such a good eye for detail, Denty, darling."   
Denton blushed. "Well, I don't like to brag, but..." I could see Mush pretending to gag and Seraph trying not to laugh at Denton's obvious crush on Medda.  
"Um...I'll just try my lines again, then," I said, pulling Medda and Denton out of their star-crossed staring contest and back to the real world.  
"Oh, of course, darling," Medda said. "And remember, make it suspenseful. Just like Denty said."  
I rolled my eyes. "Enter...Ebenezer Scrooge! Come in...and know me better man! I...am the Ghost...of Christmas Present..."  
"If he keeps talking like this, we'll be rehearsing his lines till Christmas," Seraph interrupted. "Does he really need to pause that often?"  
"Well, I suppose not," Medda said reluctantly. "Next line, please."  
"Never," Specs (as Scrooge) said.  
"You have never walked forth with the younger members of my family, my brothers born in these later years?" I asked.  
"I'm afraid I have not. Have you many brothers, Spirit?" Specs wondered.  
"More than eighteen hundred," I replied.   
"Wow, that's a lot!" Specs exclaimed, breaking completely out of character.  
"Specsy, darling, that's not in the script," Medda said, rushing over and pointing to his line. "You're supposed to say, 'A tremendous family to provide for,'."  
"I know..." Specs began, "but eighteen hundred brothers? That's a lot!"  
"It just means that there's one spirit for every Christmas," Seraph said impatiently. "Could we move on now?"   
"Of course, darling, what would we do without you?" Medda asked, sounding a little exasperated (either with Specs or with Seraph, I'm not sure). "How about we start with your first line?"  
"Wherever has gotten your precious father, then? And your brother, Tiny Tim? And Martha wasn't as late last Christmas by half-an-hour," Seraph (Mrs. Cratchit) said.  
"Here's Martha, mother!" Jade (Martha) shouted.  
"Here's Martha!" Cerise (Belinda) echoed. "There's such a goose, Martha! Hey, wait...do they eat goose for Christmas dinner?" Cerise asked, a look of disgust covering her face.   
"Why, of course, darling. Goose has been a traditional Christmas meal for centuries, beginning in the..."  
"Yeah, but I'm a vegetarian," Cerise said. "Couldn't we have it be a salad or a tofu burger or something?"  
"Yeah, we should change that line," Spot agreed, placing his arm around Cerise's waist. "It goes completely against Cerise's and my beliefs about animal rights, doesn't it honey?" Last time I ate at Seraph's house, Spot finished off a steak with absolutely no qualms about animal rights.  
"Well, I suppose," Medda began, but Seraph interrupted.  
"No way!" she exclaimed. "We are not changing the dialogue just because one cast member is a vegetarian! Tofu wasn't invented in the nineteenth century, and no one's going to get excited about a Christmas SALAD!"  
"Girls, girls, CALM DOWN!" Medda shouted, stepping (bravely) in front of Seraph. "We'll worry about the props LATER! Oh, let's just skip to Fred's first line."  
"Yay!" Mush exclaimed, which helped to relieve some of tension in the auditorium.  
"All right, Mushy darling, go ahead," Medda prompted.  
"Everyone have theirs? Good. Now, place it on the end of your nose, like this. Ready? Now repeat after me: '...should be boiled in his own pudding...'" (A/N: Fred is holding a carrot on the end of his nose, imitating Scrooge.)  
"All right, now, all the others---that's Felicia, Leticia, and Mr..... Um...Blink," Medda directed.  
" '...should be boiled in his own pudding...'" Mrs. Fred, Mrs. Fred's sister, and Topper repeated.  
"What's that mean?" Blink asked. " 'Boiled in his own pudding.' People aren't made out of pudding."  
"It just means to boil them to death," Seraph interjected quickly, before Medda could say anything. "Come on, keep going!"  
"All right, all right, calm down, Seraph," Mush said. " '...and be buried with a stake of holly through his heart. He should!'"  
Once again, the other three repeated Mush. But, just as they were finishing, a loud siren split the air.  
"Fire drill!" Mush, Seraph, and I cried in unison. Together, we dashed out the auditorium doors, through the double doors at the entrance, and down the sidewalk to the football field.  
"Can you believe Cerise?" Seraph asked, obviously still very upset about their argument. "If Dickens had wanted the Cratchits to have a Christmas salad, he would have written that!"  
"Don't worry about it, Seraph," Mush said. "Medda won't change the line!"  
"I don't know," Seraph replied doubtfully. "Anything Spot says, Medda will do."  
"No she won't! He's just a junior, and she's a teacher! Besides, I think Medda's pretty caught up with Denton now," I said mischievously. Did you see how they were looking at each other, Mush?"  
"Uh...what?" Mush asked in a dazed voice.  
"All right, Mush, what girl are you staring at now?" Seraph wondered.  
"Ariana," Mush said dreamily. "Isn't she gorgeous? And isn't her name beautiful?"  
"That's what you say about every new girl," Seraph reminded Mush. "And how many actually go out with you?"  
"Uh..." I pretended to count on my fingers, "none!"  
"Exactly," Seraph said. "Give it up, Mush. She's already flirting with Snoddy."  
"Oh yeah?" Mush asked. "Well, I'm going to go talk to her." 


	5. One Week Left

Disclaimer: All of the newsies, plus Medda Larkson, Brian Denton, and Weasel, belong to Disney. Charles Dickens wrote "A Christmas Carol", and I'm using the dramatization by Michael Paller. I own Springs, Ariana, Tessie, Taylor, Cindy, Ace, Seraph, Cerise, Jade, the Darte twins, Bethany, Bliss, Fish, Mikko, and Curls. Mrs. Holmes kind of belongs to me; she's based on Peggy Holmes, the choreographer of Newsies.  
A/N: Thanks to Stretch for all of her EXCELLENT reviews. This story will have two or three more chapters after this one, but they may not be updated for awhile because I have dance rehearsals and recitals from May 12 to the 17.  
Seraph's POV:  
October and November went by quickly. Mush did talk to Ariana during the fire drill, and they ended up going to the movies one weekend. Not much happened after that, but Mush was satisfied.  
Now, on the week after Thanksgiving, the play has finally begun to improve. Kid Blink and Racetrack have made it a habit of giving Denton a tranquilizer-spiked flavored water at the beginning of each practice, and Medda has finally run out of nineteenth-century dresses and has begun wearing modern (though horrendously uncoordinated) outfits. Specs still has problems staying in character, Itey can never remember his lines, Crutchy broke his leg again and now has to use two crutches, and Snoddy is always sneezing during the graveyard scenes, but on the whole the play has gotten better. Everyone else knows their lines, has their costumes, and can pronounce their characters' names (even Fezziwig). The only bad part? Opening night's just a week away. Medda has called for dress rehearsals before and after school every day this week, in a valiant attempt to keep us all from making complete fools of ourselves when we perform. Actually, the beginning of the play is going quite well. It's just when we get to the middle of Act Two that we start to have problems...  
Spot's POV:  
I know that my sister thinks I'm a horrible actor, but it's really the rest of the cast that's horrible at it. Take this morning's rehearsal, for instance...  
"Let's start at the Charwoman's first line, darlings," Medda directed.  
"Let the charwoman alone be first. Let the laundress alone be second, and let the undertaker be third," Bliss McNamorn said. Bliss, Fish, and the Beast rushed across the set, into my "pawnshop".  
"You couldn't have met in a better place. We're all suited to our calling. We're well matched," I said when they entered. I've never really understood that line. I tried to get Seraph to explain it to me, but she's still mad at me for agreeing with Cerise on the whole tofu-burger-for-Christmas-dinner thing. I don't see what the big deal is, but it really bothered Seraph.  
"Every person has the right to take care of himself. He always did," Bliss recited her next line. We all paused, waiting for the Beast's next line.   
"Uh...what's my line?" she asked.  
"That's true indeed. No man more so," Medda recounted, rolling her eyes.  
"That's true indeed. No more man so," the Beast blundered, fishing in her pocket for her lipstick. She is obsessed with that stuff. No matter how many times we tell her how ugly bright red lipstick makes her look, the Beast still wears about twenty layers of it.  
"No, no, no darling!" Medda shouted. "No...MAN...MORE...so!" We waited for Bethany to say her line AGAIN, but instead we heard a much more heavenly sound.  
"Kids...I'm back!" a voice shouted, and the cast turned to stare at Mrs. Holmes, our English teacher, who was walking down the main aisle of the auditorium.  
"Aren't you supposed to be having a baby?" Mush asked. I know he's my sister's best friend, but he can be a little slow sometimes.  
"I already did, Mush," Mrs. Holmes said. "Kenneth Robert Holmes, seven pounds, twelve ounces, twenty inches long, and enjoying his first day at the baby-sitter's. I couldn't miss the winter play!"  
"We're saved!" Seraph cried, and the entire cast rushed off the stage to envelope Mrs. Holmes in a giant group hug. Medda may be the new head of Carleton's drama department, but Mrs. Holmes is always the one who really pulls the plays together.   
Medda did look slightly upset at Mrs. Holmes' arrival, though. "Um...excuse me darlings," she said loudly, "but I'M the drama teacher. And we are in the middle of a rehearsal." Reluctantly, we walked back up to the stage. The rehearsal would go on, but at least with Mrs. Holmes here we had a hope of being ready for opening night. 


	6. Opening Night: Act One

Disclaimer: All of the newsies, plus Medda Larkson, Brian Denton, and Weasel, belong to Disney. Charles Dickens wrote "A Christmas Carol", and I'm using the dramatization by Michael Paller. I own Springs, Ariana, Tessie, Taylor, Cindy, Ace, Seraph, Cerise, Jade, the Darte twins, Bethany, Bliss, Fish, Mikko, and Curls. Mrs. Holmes kind of belongs to me; she's based on Peggy Holmes, the choreographer of Newsies.  
  
Stretch: Your reviews ARE excellent...and hella cool...keep them coming!  
  
A/N: Sorry it took so long to update! My school gets out on June 3, and updates should be much more frequent after that. But if you want an update sooner... review!  
  
Seraph's POV:  
  
"Where is Mrs. Holmes?" I shout, running backstage and frantically searching for my English teacher. "The show starts in ten minutes!"  
  
"Don't worry, darling," Medda assures me. "I'm here, and so is Brian."  
  
"Brian?" Mush laughs.   
  
"Er...I mean Mr. Denton, of course," Medda corrects herself, blushing. "But Seraph, sweetheart, you don't need to worry at all. Even without Mrs. Holmes, the show will be fine."  
  
"Uh...right," I say. 'What has she been smoking?' is what I'm thinking. "Bumlets!" I yell as he steps out of the boys' dressing room, outfitted as the Ghost of Christmas Present. "Have you seen Mrs. Holmes anywhere?"  
  
"Seraph, I've been in the guys' dressing room," Bumlets reminds me. "Why would Mrs. Holmes be in there?"  
  
"You don't have to worry any more, Seraph," Racetrack assures, running up to me. "Mrs. Holmes just called."  
  
"Great, then she's on her way, right?" I ask. We may be saved after all!  
  
"Uh, no, actually, her husband slipped on some ice and sprained his ankle and she couldn't find a baby-sitter, so she has to stay home with her son."  
  
"Aargh!" I exclaim. "Now who's going to be the prompter when someone," I glare pointedly at Itey, "forgets their lines?"  
  
"Why, you can be, darling, at least for Act One," Medda suggests. "Since you seem to know everyone's lines anyway."  
  
"All right," I agree. "But I still don't think this is going to work..."  
  
Ten minutes later, the curtain opens and Jack strolls out. "Once upon a time---of all good days in the year, on Christmas Eve---old Scrooge sat busy in his counting house," he begins. Specs (Scrooge) looks at me, and I can see that he's about to start counting like he did during our first rehearsal. I make violent chopping motions across my neck, and he finally looks back down. I'm standing near the front corner of the stage, hidden from the audience by the side curtains, but visible to the actors.  
  
Mush promenades happily onto the stage. He tosses a candy cane at David (Cratchit) and manages to hit him in the eye. The backstage crew gives a collective wince as David grabs his eye and moans in pain.  
  
"Oh, um, sorry about that, dear fellow," Mush improvises, patting David on the back. He quickly reverts to the script, and we all start to breathe again. Maybe the play won't be so bad after all.  
  
  
  
I wish. The next problem arises when the Portly Gentlemen appear. Mikko and Curls stroll onstage together and begin the first line...together.  
  
"Scrooge and Marley's, I believe?" they recite in unison. "Have I the pleasure of addressing Mister Scrooge or Mister Marley?"  
  
"What the heck are you doing?" Specs exclaims, loud enough that the entire audience can hear. "That's just Mikko's line, not Curls's!"  
  
"Well, we couldn't figure out who should say what, so we decided to say the lines together," Mikko explains. From the wings, we can hear the audience start to chuckle. "Hi, Mom," Mikko adds, waving to his mother in the second row. Okay, now the audience isn't chuckling...they're all-out guffawing!  
  
I clap my hands sharply, and Specs looks at me again. "Mister Marley has been dead," I prompt in a whisper.  
  
Specs nods. "Sorry about that," he says to the audience with an apologetic grin. "Mister Marley has been dead these seven years," he continues, turning back to the Portly Gentlemen.   
  
I spin around to glance at Medda---she looks about ready to faint. "Find me a martini," she mutters, and Denton rushes off to do so. Of course, alcohol isn't allowed on school property, but at the moment I think we should just go along with Medda. Better to have a slightly drunk director than one who's passed out from embarrassment.  
  
We progress (fairly) smoothly until it's almost time for Marley's first line.  
  
"How now? What do you want with me?" Specs asks.  
  
"Much," Pie Eater (Marley) whispers. His face is (literally) white as a ghost, and he is trembling violently.   
  
"Louder," I hiss.  
  
"Much," Pie Eater says, slightly louder this time.   
  
Specs continues with, "Who are you?"  
  
"As e oo I uz," is all that I hear from Pie Eater.   
  
"Bumlets, read this," I command, handing him the script.  
  
"Why?" he exclaims under his breath.  
  
"If you don't, no one will be able to understand Pie Eater's lines," I say. "Read!"  
  
"Ask me who I was," Bumlets reads, loud enough for the audience to hear. Pie Eater and Specs both jump in surprise.  
  
"Who were you, then?" I prompt, hoping Specs will follow along.  
  
"Who were you, then?" Specs repeats, giving me a perplexed look.  
  
"In life, I was your partner, Jacob Marley," Bumlets reads. Pie Eater finally gets the idea and starts mouthing the words as Bumlets says them. Yet another calamity solved.  
  
We move through the section with Fan and Young Ebenezer (as Medda moves through another martini) and on to Fezziwig's scene.  
  
Jake's (Fezziwig's) first lines go all right, until he has to make Belle's engagement announcement. Then he says, "My dears, the hour grows late. Before we depart, however, Mrs. Fuzzy-wug and I have an announcement!" I cover my face with my hands. You can practically hear Charles Dickens rolling over in his grave.  
  
"I thought he had stopped saying that," Bumlets whispers.  
  
"So did I," I reply. "Maybe he'll get it right on the next line."  
  
"Spirit, show me no more," Specs requests.  
  
Then Jake speaks his next line, "As you know, Mrs. Fuzzy-wug and I..."   
  
I groan softly. "Get me some chocolate," I request. "Please!"  
  
"And I'll take another martini," Medda slurs.  
  
"You know...that's your third," Denton points out.  
  
"So what, Denty-dumpy darling?" Medda asks, cupping his chin in her hand and smiling sleepily. "You can have one too, if you'd like."  
  
"I don't think..." Denton starts.  
  
"Bummy-lets," Medda trills. "You'll get me a martini, won't you honey darling?"   
  
Bumlets gives me a 'what-do-I-do-now?' look. Luckily, Act One is almost over. "We'll worry about it during intermission," I whisper. 


	7. Here We Go Again

Disclaimer: All of the newsies, plus Medda Larkson, Brian Denton, Weasel, and Sarah Jacobs belong to Disney. Charles Dickens wrote "A Christmas Carol", and I'm using the dramatization by Michael Paller. I own Springs, Ariana, Tessie, Taylor, Cindy, Ace, Seraph, Cerise, Jade, the Darte twins, Bethany, Bliss, Fish, Mikko, and Curls. Mrs. Holmes kind of belongs to me; she's based on Peggy Holmes, the choreographer of Newsies.  
  
A/N: The version of A Christmas Carol that I was using was in my Introducing Lit. book at school. Since school is almost over and we have turned in our books, I no longer have a copy of it. Hence, this is the last chapter. Enjoy and review!  
  
Seraph's POV:  
  
As the intermission began, I grabbed David Jacobs. "Isn't your older sister on the backstage crew?" I asked.  
  
"Yeah," David answered, bewildered. "Is Medda drunk?"  
  
"Never mind about that. Has she ever baby-sat before?" I questioned.  
  
"Medda?!"  
  
"No, your sister. Sarah, or whatever her name is."  
  
"Yeah, her name's Sarah," David said. "And she baby-sits my little brother all the time. Why?"  
  
"Mrs. Holmes can't come because she can't get a baby-sitter," I explained. "If we find her a baby-sitter, then she can come, and Act Two won't be as embarrassing as Act One."  
  
"I'll talk to her," David said. He rushed off to find his sister, and I ran into the school hallway, searching for the nearest pay phone.  
  
"What are you doing?" Bumlets asked, following me. "We have to get ready to go onstage---it's only a ten minute intermission!"  
  
"I'm just calling Mrs. Holmes and telling her to pack up baby Kenny and get over here NOW!" I replied hurriedly. "Do you have any money?"  
  
"I do," Mush said, appearing in the hallway, "and I'll call Mrs. Holmes. You go back to the auditorium."  
  
"Thanks, Mush," I said gratefully, giving him a quick hug. "You were really good. Except for when you threw the candy cane."  
  
Mush winced. "Yeah, my aim's never been that great," he conceded. "Now go. Don't worry. I'll get hold of Mrs. Holmes."  
  
Luckily, Mrs. Holmes lived close to the school. Three minutes later, she arrived with Kenneth in tow. Sarah took Kenneth off to an empty classroom to baby-sit him for the night, and I gave Mrs. Holmes a quick review of what had happened earlier.  
  
"Getting your director drunk," she mused when I had finished, "that's a new one."  
  
"She wanted a martini!" I said.  
  
"Whatever. Isn't intermission almost over?" Mrs. Holmes asked. "Let's get this show on the road!" I smiled for the first time that night. I could already tell that the second half of the play would be much better than the first.  
  
Mush's POV:  
  
Thanks to Mrs. Holmes, Act Two went very well. She directed, prompted, and generally kept the show running smoothly. She did the same thing for our next two performances. Unfortunately, Medda wasn't able to make it to those. Something about a hang over...  
  
The rest of us enjoyed the performances though---we even got a standing ovation on closing night! We also had an excellent cast party, although Cerise got a little upset when she saw all the lunchmeat there. ("Why are these drama freaks so obsessed with meat?!")  
  
Now, though, it's February, and the announcement about our spring musical went up at lunch today:  
  
Carleton Community School Spring Musical:  
  
"Mary Poppins"  
  
Directed by Ms. M. Larkson, New Head of the CCS Drama Dept.  
  
Assisted by Mr. A. Menken, CCS High School Vocal Music Teacher  
  
Auditions will be held on February 10 at 4:00 p.m.  
  
"Hey, Seraph, are you trying out?" I asked.  
  
"Definitely---"   
  
Seraph's reply was interrupted by the intercom. "Due to the fact that Mr. Menken has just been diagnosed with mononucleosis, we have hired a long term substitute to teach his classes and be the assistant director for the spring musical. The assistant director is someone you all know, Mr. Brian Denton."  
  
Oh no. Here we go again.  
  
A/N: Thanks to Stretch and Hottie5Star for reviewing this story. I may eventually do a sequel with the newsies in "Mary Poppins". 


End file.
